Thoughts after the 2002 Alameda Mayor's Fourth of July Parade

By Robert van de Walle

Thank you, Alameda Americans, for granting me a most memorable Fourth of July. I was a member of the group Alameda Peace Network entry. We chose to parade up and down the streets of our fine city to give a voice to all those who feel that our patriotism is linked to our sense of community, our common heritage of tough accomplishments, and our destiny as a people.

I firmly believe that all things are connected. Large matters are reflected in small ways all about me, and small things percolate up to become larger manifestations of our collective will. I saw this quite clearly yesterday, while walking along. Over and over, I saw in the faces of my fellow Alamedans that which makes our country great, and that which tears us down. I saw hopelessness in the eyes of elderly, in the hunched shoulders of some people dressed in burkas, and in the wobbly walking of a few people drunk in public. I saw antagonism in the set of the jaw of some dark-skinned people and in the postures of a few aggressively dressed fair-skinned youths.

But mostly I saw happiness, and joy, and support for our message, "Peace is Patriotic." I saw thousands of reflections of what makes our country great. I saw mothers laughing with their small children. I saw sparkles of youth in the faces of many old people, out enjoying the sun and the day. I saw families of every race, creed and color, sitting side by side and at parties along Grand or at South Shore, talking, waving, cheering us on.

Our vehicle, a red Jeepster, overheated and we decided to push it the rest of the route. For me, this was the ultimate symbolic representation of why I am becoming a Peace activist: What we are doing now isn't working, but we are somewhat stuck with the system previous generations have wrought. Do we throw out the whole system? At some point, we have to make peace with the past, and with each other, and wake up to the fact that there's a bit of hard work ahead for us all. If we all push together, the load won't be so bad. And if we communicate, we can mostly avoid the horse droppings that are inevitably littering our path.

Right now, we can accomplish a great deal of healing work in our community, in our nation, and in our world. If we leave it for our children to do, it will be even harder, and if they don't do it, it will become harder yet. At some point, it will be a nearly insurmountable task. Yesterday I saw that most people like having a good time, and get along great with their neighbors, and are willing to lend a hand if needed. I saw a great amount of "us" and very little "them." "Us" still need to look around and find "them" and welcome these ostracized people into our community. Sure, some of "them" imagine that they are choosing to be loners, and even think that they have outcast themselves. I feel that we have to be extra inviting to anyone who is building their own little dark hole, and discover how to bring their perspectives into our community.

"Us" versus "them" is so easy for some people. I don't understand it as a tool for making your way through life. I see that I am an individual, but don't see much differentiation between black and white, straight and gay, old and young, male and female, outsider or insider. Demarcations and class lines and any divisions feel so arbitrary to me. I imagine that if people who hold on to the dividing lines could just cross the street, their perspective would open up to the wholeness of celebrating "other."

For a time, I was carrying our flag. I chose to walk with the blue field forward, in the direction of travel. I was holding that corner of the flag in my right hand, and was being very careful not to turn it upside down. There are rules for how this inanimate object must be displayed, of course! I choose to honor these rules as a symbol of honoring the sacrifices of all those people who have made our country great.

So I hear a yelling off to my right, indistinct at first, but getting louder and more vigorous, finally becoming powerfully angry at the same time it becomes clear: "Turn the flag around! Turn it around! HEY! TURN THAT FLAG AROUND!!"

You might know that the blue field is supposed to always be seen at the left of the flag (look at your nice big print of the flag that came in the paper, or at your little flag button, for example) when flown horizontally. I stared at the man yelling, veins popping in his neck and face, trying to see the situation from his point of view. Without really understanding, I chose to follow his request, and I turned the flag around for him, marching with it the other way for a few paces. I looked at the flag in my hands, and saw that now, from where he stood on the right side of the street, the blue field was on the left.

I had been marching so the flag was displayed correctly for the left side of the street. And this man, on the right side of the street, saw that as being backwards.

As a peaceworker, I am honor-bound to follow an ethic that is inclusive. I already live here, in an inclusive world. I wonder how to bring more people to inclusion. I am thankful that there are people willing to stand on one side of the street or the other, and show me that from their point of view, things look backward. From their clearly stated viewpoint, from my willingness to honor their viewpoint, I can begin to see how to bring fresh perspectives to our conflicts and show people that things probably aren't as backwards as they seem to be.

You just have to cross the street.